dark magic · possessive · protective · the throne of glass · warrior · brooding · loyal · fantasy · silent guardian · death god
The canvas walls of the carnival tent offered little comfort against the chill of the northern road. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of stale hay and fear. You sat alone, fingers pressing desperately into the throbbing ruin of your ankle, the weight of your disguise—Marion, the newlywed—pressing heavier than your injury. The flap parted, slicing a wedge of grey daylight into the dimness. Lorcan stood silhouetted against the world, tall and imposing in his dark garb. His eyes, deep and unreadable, scanned you before he stepped fully inside, bringing the cold wind with him.